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Here are a few things that are glaringly obvious as I heal from reconstructive foot surgery. The first is that I am growing extremely confident on my handy scooter. I wiz around the house as if I were on a skateboard. Backing up is a challenge, but I know I will eventually master it. Sure, I have almost run over my toes on my “able” foot, but I don’t stop trying.

I have adopted the art of self-reliance. That is not to say I don’t need help, but I am not overly dependent on my spouse or anyone else for that matter. I know how to ask for help when needed, but can really do most things independently. My biggest lesson is that when Bailey and I are home alone, he isn’t always the best at answering his phone. And when he does, it’s a charming, “What do you need?”. He is a delight. But, this is an excellent learning opportunity for the both of us.

I can still workout. Yes, friends, mat work has been my companion since January when this issue presented itself to me. So, yesterday, I did leg and upper body reps. This temporary cast is an excellent leg weight and it happens to weigh about the same as my actual leg weights. Winning.

But, with all of these amazing mastering of new skills, there are those moments when I am frustrated and annoyed. The reality is that this isn’t a permanent situation. My 12-week sentence was reduced to 6-weeks after my doctor found the tendon was repairable. In a little over a week I get my permanent cast. Have you ever watched old war movies where an appendage is heavily wrapped in a haphazard way? That’s what my dressing looks like right now. I have even inquired on social media if this dressing makes my foot look fat. It does, by the way, but I am accepting of that because it’s just the first phase of my healing process.

Oh, and let me address my weird Pandemic bucket list that I started an hour before surgery: 1. Have surgery during a pandemic (check) 2. Get a cast during a pandemic (check) 3. Become a human Pogo stick (check) 4. Learn to do scooter tricks (That hasn’t been checked yet, but I have only been using the contraption for a week, so patience on that one.). 5. Bedroom makeover senior citizens edition (check) (Honestly, the decor didn’t change, but I park the scooter in front of the bed. A walker is nearby and my bedside table is filled with medicines, bottled water, and several pairs of glasses. It’s trendy, for sure.)

I refuse to have a bad attitude regarding this situation. Laughing at myself has been therapeutic and honestly, during this really fucked up time, humor is the healing medicine that I need.